


Cyanide Dreams

by Emono



Series: Safe and Sound [6]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Carlos seeing more of Cecil, Cecil's true form, M/M, Spoilers, anger issues, forked tongue, sexy dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 20:04:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/957082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emono/pseuds/Emono
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil lets himself slip in front of Carlos, showing the scientist that there is - indeed - more to him than meets the eye. </p><p>A hooded figure does an interview. Carlos has an unexpected dream. Cecil makes a decision. </p><p>Spoilers for Episode 4, "PTA Meeting"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cyanide Dreams

“ _The sun has grown so very, very old. How long cold, fading death? How long? Welcome to Night Vale_.”

 

*******

 

They met at Carlos's lab regularly, usually restrained to the top floor where only he and his three assistants worked. It wasn't that Cecil didn't like the rest of the team, he just didn't trust them. When prompted on why, he explained that the last time a group of scientists came to Night Vale it hadn't ended well for anyone. He was actively avoiding a repeat performance.

 

Carlos walked by him three times before he realized the older man's nose seemed to trail after him, scenting him.

 

“Do I smell awful?” Carlos brought the lapel of his lab coat to his nose.

 

“No, quite the opposite,” blonde lashes fluttered as he tried to catch another whiff, “It's just...your cologne or shampoo or something. It's fantastic.”

 

“I don't wear cologne,” Carlos chuckled, shrugging off those niggling worms of self-consciousness, “And my shampoo unscented, hypoallergenic stuff. My mother was always worried about lice and she was under the impression that sweet smelling shampoos attracted them. I suppose I never shook the habit.”

 

“Really? That's just you?” Cecil inquired airily, “Do you mind if I...?”

 

He held out his hand, an open invitation. They both knew he wouldn't be offended if he said no but there was a pull on both sides, like magnets facing the right way. Carlos found himself walking over to where the radio host sat, taking the offered hand slowly enough for his fingertips to drag across his wide palm. His breath hitched as it was turned out and his sleeve was pushed up, vulnerable forearm exposed to the cool air of the lab.

 

Carlos gave a nod before Cecil leaned down, inhaling gently to take in the raw scent. If the scientist hadn't been watching his face so closely he would've missed it, a flash of pink from between the man's lips. It was a brief tickle along his wrist. Every muscle in Carlos's body froze, his hair could've been standing on end for all he knew. He couldn't keep his jaw from dropping at the sight.

 

His tongue was...forked, a little thinner. Not cut in half like some of those out-of-the-box people he saw sometimes, but naturally split and smooth. Like a snake

 

Warmth spread up his arm as he realized that his friend had just _licked_ him, strange tongue or not.

 

“You smell delicious,” Cecil glanced up, frowning when he saw how wide his eyes were, “Carlos?”

 

A violet flush stained his face as he realized what he had done, lips pursing tight as if to restrain another flicker. He'd been so wrapped up in getting his first real taste of the other that he'd forgotten to hold back, to keep his quirks locked down. He rolled his normal tongue around in his mouth, teeth grazing it like a scolding.

 

“Is that a, uh, body modification?” Carlos was on the verge of freaking out but his curiosity had taken over, “How cutting edge of you.”

 

“No, my goodness, no,” Cecil let him go, scooting back to get to his feet. He paced toward the mice cages, hands shoved deep into his pockets. Every fingertip that had touched the scientist was burning, a desire for more threatening to consume him. But he had bigger problems than his unrequited love to deal with at the moment.

 

“I can usually keep it in check but you smell so wonderful,” Cecil explained, biting the side of his lip for a moment, “I apologize.”

 

Carlos thumbed the inside of the wrist, trying to remember what that tongue felt like.

 

“You're different, aren't you?”

 

There was no malice in his tone and it kept the radio host's heart from breaking.

 

“I'm afraid so,” Cecil went back to the stool, grabbing his coat off the table, “I need to leave, I have a show to prepare for.”

 

“Cecil, we should talk about this,” Carlos followed him toward the stairwell door, “If you're something you're not, I think I have a right to know.”

 

Cecil flinched but kept his eyes straight ahead, “I'm sorry, darling, not now.”

 

Carlos caught the door before it shut, watching the blonde beat a retreat.

 

“You're my only friend here and I'd hate to keep secrets!”

 

That made the man pause. Cecil looked up at him from the bottom of the first case, a certain sadness pulling at the edges of his mouth. But the scientist stared him down, refusing to yield.

 

“There's just some things about me I can't share yet,” Cecil's hands balled into fists inside his coat pockets, “I couldn't bare to lose you.”

 

Carlos deflated, “Where would I go?”

 

“Away, I'm sure.”

 

“Cecil-”

 

Just like that, he was gone.

 

Carlos couldn't find it in himself to chase after him.

 

*******

 

Cecil shouldered open the door to his booth, hands busy polishing his glasses in front of him. He slipped them on and took a look at the room, bristling when he saw one of the hooded figures standing in front of his set up. The tattoos on his arm pulsed once before fading out, inky appendages uncurling behind him only to lash out. Boxes of records were toppled over, the blown speaker he'd been working toward fixing shattered as it was struck full on. His full fangs descended so quickly they cut his lip open, a hiss of warning following them. His third eye flew open and in that moment he knew this was just a baby version of the brood. It inspired no mercy within him.

 

“Get. Out.”

 

The hooded figure said nothing, and without eyes it seemed to stare at the door. Cecil glanced in said direction to spot a yellow envelope taped to the wood. He snatched it off, his still-rounded by razor sharp fingernails gouging trenches in the surface. He ripped off the top and pulled the letter out, gaze still darting to the intruder as he read. Management wanted him to interview it, the beast who's hulking yet invisible figure was filling up the small room. Unfriendly darkness stained every corner and crease of the walls, his own dark cast vanishing.

 

So these hooded figures had shadows too, ones stronger than his own. Interesting.

 

“Interview you?” he spat out, “I'd rather gouge out your eyes, you filthy bastard. You're one of the things that tried to kill Carlos.”

 

_'And you're the thing smiling so nicely as you lead him by the hand to his death..'_

 

“I'll kill you!” Cecil barked, taking a step toward the thing only to have something crumple under his heel, “What the...?”

 

Another letter. He reached down and picked it up, fangs receding and limbs retracting as he read it. It said he was officially under orders not to hurt the hooded figure, that he had to try and get an interview no matter what. It said exactly to 'put aside his feelings on the matter'.

 

Cecil blinked quite a few times as he re-settled, irises fading into their normal azure. Black and violet ink wove down his arms, irritation showing as runes and jagged braids curled through his fingers and across his palms. After a few moments he fixed his glasses took a few breaths, and managed a polite smile.

 

“Please,” his tone was honey smooth once again, “Sit down. Make yourself at home.”

 

*******

 

The house was quiet.

 

That was the first thing Carlos noticed when he moved in to the rented home. It was too new, too sleek and perfect. He'd grown up in a house where the air conditioner made his room sound like a wind tunnel and the stairs creaked. His grandparents had owned a home older than America, and his parents had moved into it after they passed. Houses that didn't groan and settle at night were foreign to him. Here in Night Vale, tile and drywall were as silent as the grave.

 

The only sound in the house was the radio sitting next to his alarm clock, on and fixed on the community radio channel. Carlos had decided to go to bed early and had thought the show would put him to sleep. How wrong he had been.

 

The static hiss of the hooded figure had kept him stone still and wide eyed. During the interview he'd been thrown back into the dog park, memories of lashing claws and growling beasts swamping him until he'd begun to sweat. But that was all before the weather. He'd taken the few minutes of reprieve to relax and stretch, forcing himself to remember exactly where he was. At home, safe, blocks away from that awful place.

 

Cecil's voice came back on the air, soothing and swimming through the room. It wrapped around him, filling his senses and warming him like his blanket couldn't. The message was morbid with the report of the rip in time and space and a discovered dinosaur body, but he could ignore it for now. He reached over and wrote a quick reminder on his sticky note pad to go gather data at the school when he had the chance. Terrifying as the incident was, it was infinitely fascinating.

 

“ _City council and Secret Police have issued a reminder that Night Vale citizens of all species and all geologic eras are not to enter, look at, or think too long about the dog park. This reminder, they say, is completely unrelated to anything that may or may not have happened today._ ”

 

Carlos shuddered and pulled the sheet closer around him, settling back in until he was comfortable. As Cecil continued to talk, he focused less on the hooded figures and more on how his friend's tongue had felt along his skin. He shivered for a different reason, lids drooping as exhaustion crept up on him. A forked tongue was scary but it was something he could get used to. Cecil wasn't dangerous, even if he did hide things from him.

 

“ _And listeners, Night Vale is an ancient place, full of history and secrets…as we were reminded today. But it is also a place of the present moment, full of life, and of us. If you can hear my voice speaking live, then you know: we are not history yet. We are happening now. How miraculous is that._ ”

 

“Cecil,” Carlos sighed, head sinking further into the pillow.

 

“ _Goodnight, listeners. Goodnight_.”

 

*******

 

_Everything was soft. So undeniably soft that all he could do was flex and shift against it. Tired, boneless, encompassed. The world had dissolved to nothing and it didn't matter._

 

_Something touched the side of his knee, something forked and warm. Just wet enough to glide across his skin, trailing up to the inside of his thigh. He parted his legs, giving it all the room it could ever want. He begged quietly for more, but it just trailed up to his stomach. Further it went, gliding along the center of his chest._

 

_He moaned out into the void of darkness around him, arching up for more while his fingers dug into the softness beneath his head. The wet thing flicked across his nipples, flesh peaking at the attention. It left a cooling trail up his neck, lingering hungrily over his jugular. It ran along the seam of his lips and he willingly parted them._

 

_It was a tongue, a tongue that lead to smooth lips. He let it fill his mouth, the split end curling around his own to more thoroughly taste him._

 

*******

 

Carlos awoke hard and shaking, hands fisted so tight in the sheets it actually hurt to uncurl them.

 

 

*******

 

Across town, Cecil stood in front of his window and glared down at the street. His knuckles were white against the frame as he fought the urge to go out there and find his scientist. He wanted more than anything to show Carlos just how good he could be with his tongue. But the time wasn't right, he'd ruin what they had if he showed his hand this early. He needed to wait and expose himself a bit at a time, get him used to it. The scientist was already showing signs of being alright with their differences. What was a few more days or weeks in comparison to a lifetime of being alone?

 

With the decision made, his Ajna closed.

* * *

 **Sorry, I didn't really read over this and it had a few mistakes in it.**  

 


End file.
